Don't Say Anything
by chichirichick
Summary: Cute one-shot, fluff-filled MakaxSoul fic. Dancing is the assignment, but words and actions might get in the way.


Enjoy this one-shot, fluff-filled MakaxSoul fic.

* * *

"Dancing?" Black Star groaned out, the _a_ sound undulating in annoyance.

Maka and Soul were still standing against the wall of the gym, watching Kid launch into an argument of aesthetics with Stein. Regardless of the spastic insistence from Kid that the only possible option should be line dancing (symmetry after all), Stein seemed unimpressed with the backlash from his order for today's lesson and refused to be swayed. He rolled his chair over to the record player and dropped the needle, a static popping giving way to a booming Tchaikovsky's waltz from Swan Lake.

"What's this got to do with fighting anyway?" Black Star complained to Soul who only had a shrug to offer in return.

"It's the wavelengths," Maka corrected. "If you're in tune, anything where you have to predict your partner's movements shouldn't be that hard."

"Still seems stupid," Black Star muttered.

Soul pushed off from the wall, holding out his hand to Maka. "You ready?" His smirk was a little too wide and Maka started to suspect he found something amusing about this that the rest of them weren't getting.

"Sure." His grip was light but as soon as he got her a few steps on the floor his fingers tightened, whirling her around with a few hurried steps.

Maka was finally face to face with that strange grin as his hand moved to rest lightly at the center of her back. "Come on, we're going to show them what it should look like." Soul grasped her other hand, giving it a squeeze as he held it up. "Why don't you lead?"

"Isn't the guy supposed to?" Maka smiled as he still waited for her without an answer, letting her take the first step in time with the music.

Their motion was smooth, a simple turn of steps that seemed effortless to those watching them. The same could not be said for the rest of the crew. Kid was still unable to start, concentrating on the impossibility of a waltz with both of the twins, ultimately dissolving into a puddle of tears and self-deprecation. Black Star was another matter altogether, heaving Tsubaki along left and right, possibly breaking a few toes in the process.

"Get started already, Kid," Stein chimed, leaning back in his chair to examine Black Star. "Good start, but try letting Tsubaki take on a little more of the directional control." His eyes fell on Maka and Soul but he stayed silent, watching them sway for another minute before focusing his efforts back on the young shinigami.

Maka felt his hand relax, drifting more towards her lower back. Soul flexed his fingers before clearing his throat, "How much longer do you think he'll make us do this?"

"What, tired already?" Maka teased.

"Ha. Ha," he pronounced sharply. "Just seems too easy for us, you know?"

Maka squeezed her fingers into his shoulder, "Don't let him hear you say that. Next thing you know it'll be the foxtrot."

"At least that would have better music." His face stretched further into that grin and suddenly she was too aware of where his hand was, the way his eyes never left her face. Soul was watching the way her hair moved, tracing the line of her neck back to her eyes. It felt like a figment of her imagination or wishful thinking, but she was sure she'd caught him doing this more often, letting his eyes linger on her.

_Definitely wishful thinking, Maka,_ she internally chided. This had been happening more and more often, those drifting thoughts of something beyond just their partnership. He'd obviously never said anything and she felt like she wouldn't dare. It would put everything on the line and there was honestly no way, no possible way that he even saw her as anything more than his meister.

"Earth to Maka." He snapped her back to reality, not before noticing the obvious fantasy playing in her mind. "What's on your mind? You were about to miss a step and your waves are all over the place."

"Nothing," the word barely got out of her mouth, stumbling and stuttering over the first syllable.

Soul was about to open his mouth again, to probe into this obvious lie but Stein's voice ran over his, the music shutting off sharply. "OK, Black Star, Tsubaki, Kid, Liz, and Pattie, you'll need to come back next week and be prepared to show me you've got this down pat. Soul and Maka," his fingers stroked his chin for a moment, "Next class you'll need something a little more advanced."

Without really thinking, Maka leaned into Soul, her hip bumping his, "Told you."

"Nothing we can't handle." He squeezed her hand before letting her go, his arm slipping away from her back. "What'll it be, Stein?"

Stein rolled thoughtfully in his chair, the wheels squealing in protest as he rocked back and forth. "I'll let you decide. Just try to up the technical skill. We'll see how coordinated you are." An amused smile curled over his lips, giving most of the classroom the chills. "Alright, class dismissed."

* * *

Soul was lying on his back, his feet over the top of the couch, his head almost upside down over the edge of the seat. It wasn't comfortable, but it was in the way, forcing her to either come too close to him on the couch or squeeze past him to make it to the solo armchair. Maka walked past him, her hand absently dangling close enough to just touch the tips of his hair.

One of those intrusive thoughts popped into his head, the question of how good it would have felt if she had run her fingers through loud in his mind. _Even better, what would it be like if she…_ He forced himself from his position, the blood rushing to his head easily hiding any color that might have come to his face before the interrupted thought. "I'm bored," he groaned.

Maka had barely gotten into the seat, her book just opened in her lap. "Why do I have to entertain you?" She shut her book without even glancing at the page though, and Soul couldn't stop a victorious smile from covering his face.

"Because," he offered playfully. He was already up off the couch and had begun to push the coffee table closer to the TV, starting to create a space.

She slipped the book into the crevice of the seat and stood slowly. "What are you doing?"

"Making room." It wasn't enough of an answer and he knew it, he just didn't want her argument yet, not until it was too late to really get out of it.

"Ok…" Maka moved to help him, now lifting the couch and putting it flush with the wall. It wasn't that much space since their apartment wasn't exactly enormous but it was enough to move around in.

"Let's compromise." Soul moved towards the record player, looking through his stack of albums.

She looked around again at the cleared room and then to his serious selection process, "I didn't even know there was some choice here, Soul."

"Dancing." He plucked a record off the shelf, slipping it carefully from the sleeve.

Maka could feel her pulse fluctuate. "How is that a compromise?" Her voice sounded borderline frantic in her mind, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks as she thought about being that close again.

Soul didn't seem to notice, his attention absorbed by placing the record perfectly, dropping the needle as it began to spin. "I'm not bored and you are technically studying. Stein did tell us to come back with something harder."

She could identify the voice now trickling through the speakers, the scratchy base of Louis Armstrong, but beyond that she was too focused on how he turned to her, his arms easily grabbing her and forcing her out of her motionless state.

"Will you let me lead?"

A nod was all she could manage as that low hand on her back pulled her tighter. It took all the strength she could muster to focus on his steps, his moves and she found herself feeling stiff, unyielding.

For Soul, the moment was borderline perfect: the right tunes, the comfort of their apartment, and another close moment with her. It was only marred by the fact that she couldn't seem to focus, her wavelengths just barely syncing to the point where he feared for his feet. "Hey, Maka, chill out, OK?"

"What?" She snapped out of her intense concentration, finding his eyes searching hers seriously.

"This is supposed to be fun," he laughed as if to punctuate the point. His hand slipped from her waist, prompting her into a twirl. It was a strange mixture of relief and need as she exited his arms, but she still felt herself giving into a moment of exhilaration, letting him spin her back to his arms. "See? Fun."

"Yeah." Her smile came a little easier until he dipped her. As she leaned into his dip she found herself laughing, the ridiculousness of her panic starting to dissipate. Soul snapped her back, their faces just inches apart, and that goofy half-smile made her heart melt. "Soul…"

He tilted his head, his eyebrows starting to narrow at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" His voice was too playful and that smile was over the top.

It was impossible that she would ever be so brave, to ever swallow all the doubt and the healthy serving of self-loathing, but looking at his face at that moment broke through something in her. She lifted herself on her toes, surprised at how he anchored her with that arm at her waist as if he knew what was coming, and let her lips press against his.

Soul did not have any idea and had instead thought she was tripping, ready to catch her, but found himself in a moment that made his heart stop. She was kissing him. Soul tried to return it, his mouth moving forward only to find her pulling back, her two hands firmly placed on his chest. "Maka, what was that?" There was a tone there he didn't like, and the words sounded rough and, well, just utterly terrible for the situation. He was instantly kicking himself as he saw her face change, that original breathless blush turning to pure, red panic.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she ripped herself from him, already pushing to get out of the living room.

He wasn't turning fast enough and she was already out of his grasp. "Maka, wait!"

But the only reply he received was the slam of her bedroom door. "Uncool," he groaned, his hands running through his hair as he tried to weigh the options. He _should_ go in there and talk to her. Right now. But his own fear started to eat away at him in that booming voice. _She said sorry, she didn't mean it, it was a mistake, if she wanted it why would she run?_ Over and over in a cycle until his head felt like a watermelon under a mallet. Getting out finally came as the only sensible choice.

Soul trudged into his room, grabbing his keys off the desk. He hesitated as he reached the hallway, his hand pressing to her door. There was no denying that he felt her wavelengths, the pulsating sadness accented by a hint of fear. That wasn't regret and Soul knew it. He pulled his hand back weakly, letting it come back to the wood with a thud. "Maka!"

Another intensified wave is all he got in reply.

"I'm going out to cool my head," he rasped through the door, shocking himself as his voice broke. "When I come back, I want to talk."

There wasn't an answer, just more feelings of lapping anguish seeping through the door. Soul let his hand drift down the door, a heavy sigh breaking his lips. _It has to be OK. She'll open the door when I get back._ He shoved the keys and his fists into his pockets and walked down the hall and out of the apartment.

The door was open when he got back, but it was because she was gone, clothes were strewn across the bed, important items disappeared. On the desk was a note he'd never imagined.

_Gone to my dad's._

* * *

For three days the apartment was empty. She'd stayed away the whole weekend and Monday Soul let himself skip, trying to make a day in bed alone seem like some kind of fun that he actually chose for himself. By day four he had no choice since his bed seemed like an even worse idea than DWMA.

"Where's Maka?" Black Star stopped just before entering the classroom, his eyes narrowing at the white-haired boy slumped against the wall.

That was a terrifying question and one Soul had actually never had to answer before this week because she was either with him or there was a damn good reason that everyone knew already as to why she wasn't there. His eyes darted to from Black Star to the floor, already taking too much time to give a reason that wouldn't instantly seem like a lie. "She's still sick." And he hoped to Death she would stay that way, not complicate an already problematic lie.

"Huh." There was definitely more on Black Star's tongue and mind but he didn't pursue it and just half-heartedly wandered into the classroom.

What dignity would he have left if he went in there? Not only was he not looking forward to the reminder that everyone else had a partner, but the fact that dancing, like the stupid dancing that he had suggested, that had _ruined_\- _No. Nothing is ruined. It can't be ruined just because of a stupid little kiss._

But it wasn't a stupid little kiss. How long had he thought about that? Thought maybe, just maybe in a once in a million chance, Maka felt something more than just a weapon and meister kind of love, if that's what you could call it. That was _everything_ and he managed to fuck it up completely with the least cool line possible - one that broke her heart. But even that was presumptuous, that it was heartbreaking. What if she just felt like it was a mistake? She experimented, there wasn't even a hint of a spark, and she ditched him. Regardless of how synchronized they'd become, he could never actually know her mind.

Now she was as closed off as she could possibly be, surrounded by the idiot moat that was Spirit. He'd almost instantly gone over there after finding the note, ringing the bell, banging on the door, and all that got him was a screaming match with that red-haired menace. It went along the lines of the same old fucking song of "Leave my daughter alone or I'll kill you" which was something Soul felt like he deserved and didn't all at the same time.

The bell jolted him from all of the muddled thoughts, a sudden sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He couldn't go in. It wasn't possible. Maka wasn't coming, either, not even to see him on the even-ground that was DWMA. _It's ruined. It's ruined. It's ruined._

"Soul?" Only Stein's head peeked through the doorway, his chair obviously leaned back just enough to give his face clearance.

"Yeah?" he croaked.

Stein's pale green eyes started to dig right through him, "Spirit already told me Maka wouldn't be attending today's lesson."

_You look like an idiot._ The spit dried in his mouth. There weren't any words he could access.

The chair squeaked and Stein moved a little more into the doorway, his shoulders now leaning in. "He called from home and said he wouldn't be coming in either. Since Maka's still not feeling well."

His stomach churned and he was sure that the only thing that would come out of his mouth if he opened it now would be vomit.

Stein regarded him for another moment, his finger coming up to straighten his glasses. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind delivering something to Spirit for me since I assume you'll be checking on your meister."

He hadn't even considered it today since the past few days had been fruitless and seeing Spirit, especially without the dampening effect of Maka, would definitely rub him the wrong way. How much longer could he wait without going crazy though? "OK."

"Good." Stein's arm appeared in the doorframe, a small box in his hand. "Give this to him first, please."

There wasn't even an ounce of inquisitiveness in his body, the weightlessness and lack of movement in the box not even registering as he pocketed it. Soul didn't have another word to offer, just turning slowly on his heels, hands jammed in his pockets. His bike usually at least brought some level of joy, but it was minuscule with the absence of her hands on his waist or just the mere presence of her behind him. The whole ride to her old place, a house he'd only seen and never actually been inside, felt blank, void beside anything but the journey itself. The wind even felt flat.

_All because of a stupid kiss._ He was starting to believe he'd do anything, literally anything she asked as long as she asked for it. But that felt dangerous because didn't he have feelings too? Feelings she would have to know because he deserved some kind of closure, even though there was an ending he knew he didn't want. At the end of that thought came a hard stop at the curb of the house. He put out the kickstand and started to dismount, hearing the door creak open as soon as he had both feet back on the pavement.

Of course, it wasn't Maka, couldn't possibly be that lucky, just Spirit standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips, that overly expressive frown on his face. Soul could barely make it up the walk, his hand already fishing into his pocket.

"I thought I told you not to bother," Spirit spat, leaning against the doorframe.

"Look, I…" Soul's tongue felt fat, sluggish in his mouth so he found himself dishes out the box, offering it out to Spirit. "Stein asked me to deliver this and… could you just ask her if she'd see me? Please?" Soul wasn't sure he'd ever used that word with him and it showed on Spirit's face, the eyebrows raising momentarily.

Spirit grasped the box slowly, his eyes going from Soul to it before drifting back over his shoulder to the stairs. Soul waited for him to call, but after a pregnant pause, Spirit turned his head back, opening the box just enough to get a clear look at what was inside without letting Soul catch even a trace. He snapped it shut, sighing before taking a step out of the doorway, shutting the door slowly behind him. "I don't think her opinion on talking to you has changed."

"Please," Soul tried out the word again, getting the same surprise. "Just check again."

Spirit's eyes drifted up to an open window on the second floor. The curtains fluttered but there was no other indication of a presence, and Soul blamed it on the breeze rather than the wishful thinking she saw him and was on her way down. "Look, I don't know what you did…" he paused, waiting for the regular fighting to ensue, the utter quiet he got instead causing another quick eyebrow raise. "But if you want to talk about it, I think the best you're going to do is me right now."

"Talk to you?" Soul couldn't help but spit it out like a bitter pill.

Spirit huffed, sitting down on the stoop before looking up at him with waning patience. "Take it or leave it, kid."

Soul lowered himself down to the stairs as if his knees needed oil. He'd have sooner thought the Kishin would give in to peace and have a tea party than he and Spirit would be having an almost civilized conversation about Maka, but here they were. "She didn't tell you anything?" By the end of the sentence, he felt like he was gasping for air.

"Not a word, but I think we can both agree that's not too strange," Spirit shrugged.

This was a tightrope walk, having to find some kind of way to weave a story that didn't include that moment that would probably send Spirit over the edge. "I said the wrong thing. I know I said the wrong thing." Soul opened his hands in his lap as if pleading with his fingers would work.

"I can't say I didn't guess that." Spirit sighed, his eyes trailing back to that window for a second before focusing on Soul's open hands. "I thought maybe the first day it was another one of your teasing fights gone wrong."

_Our teasing fights?_ Soul felt his stomach flip. She'd gotten pissed a couple of times, sure. They'd had a screaming match or two when he maybe went a little too far with one of the flat-chested comments, but she was rarely innocent, throwing in a comment about his wireyness or the fact that he'd never even held hands with a girl besides her. "It wasn't anything like that." But had the other times meant that much to her that she'd even gone to Spirit about them?

"But so wrong that she doesn't want to talk to you?" Spirit prompted again, trying to get whatever he could out of this conversation that already seemed destined for disaster.

"I tried, right away, told we should cool off and then talk about it. It's worked before, for everything else, but she disappeared." Soul heard his voice crack on the last word and slapped a hand to his mouth, trying to seal the sound in. Death forbid he cry in front of Spirit, but that's what his mind seemed to be moving towards and he could feel the pinpricks in his eyes.

"Maka didn't even give you the chance to make it worse?" Spirit added a little _hmph_ at the end, one of his hands running through his hair.

Soul took a few more breaths, forcing his eyes closed until they felt less likely to leak. "She left for here while I was out. That's why I came here right away."

The silence sat between them for a moment that felt like an hour before Spirit cleared his throat and brought himself to his feet. "Then you did everything you could, Soul."

"What's that mean?" Panic started to rise in his throat at the thought.

Spirit turned back to the door, popping it open again to let it creak. "You have to give her time."

"Oh," came out a forlorn groan, his hands clenched into fists.

A soft hand plopped momentarily onto Soul's head, an attempt that struck him as awkward but with a hint of comfort. "And not worry so much. You trust your meister, right?"

"I'd do anything she said," he lamented.

"Hey, don't give her that much." Spirit was trying to tease again, that hand slipping off of Soul's head. "Have a little self-respect."

Soul didn't answer, just turned his eyes up to Spirit, a flat, emotionlessness eating up every feature of his face. After a few seconds of that stare, he propelled himself to his feet, starting down the walk. Spirit waited to see him hop on his bike, pulling away from the curb and into the afternoon. He turned back into the house and closed the door behind him, almost jumping as Maka spoke from the top of the stairs.

"What did Stein send?" Her hands were stuffed into her hoodie, the hood obscuring some of her face.

"So you were listening." Spirit moved to the railing, leaning against it and looking up at her.

"Did he send any work is what I'm asking," she corrected, trying her best to sound exasperated.

"No, it was for me." Spirit motioned for her to take off the hood and she did with an eye roll. "He sent me a heartbroken demon weapon. Guess he thought that was my expertise."

Maka bristled, "It's none of your business."

Spirit paused, something unusual for him when dispensing what Maka could loosely consider parental advice. For the most part, he rushed into his fatherly suggestions, usually all of them wrong, but the slow start made her leave her ears open, at least for the moment. "I'm disappointed in you."

It felt like the hair was standing up on the back of her neck like a cat on the defensive. "What?" _OK, maybe I'm not listening to him after all._

"Well, you're acting less like Maka and more like _me._"

"What?" This time the word had less conviction.

"Since when do you not let someone explain their side of the story?" Spirit took a few slow steps on the stairs, trying to get some leverage with her in a conversation that was actually making him feel, well, like he was a parent for once. "You never turn your back on someone, no matter the hurt. You still call me Papa, hell, you held out for Crona to explain himself. Soul's the last person I would have expected you'd have drawn a line for."

"It's not like that," Maka spat out, trying to hold onto some kind of anger but finding it evaporating and leaving only the sadness behind. She wanted to turn and leave the conversation, something she'd done a million times to Spirit and would probably do a million more, but she found herself planted by the hurt of the week. "I'm scared of what he'll say."

"That's even worse!" Spirit didn't seem to check the words. "You've never been a scaredy-cat either."

The tears started to sting on the corner of her eyes, the words _he's going to leave me_ concreted to her throat. That was a reality she couldn't even speak into being but it was the one she expected to exist.

Spirit watched her for a moment before his lips pressed into a frown. "I'm kicking you out."

"What?" her voice was just barely more than a tremble.

"You have one more night here and then you're going back to the apartment tomorrow." Spirit made the rest of the trek to the top of the stairs, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You can avoid school for the rest of the week, fine, but you're going to see him tomorrow no matter what."

"How do I…?" The words drifted off into a sigh.

Spirit didn't press his luck and brought his hand back to his side, letting a soft smile spread across his lips. "Start off with what you're afraid of. I hate to admit it, but I trust that kid's not out to hurt you."

* * *

Soul had gotten dressed, had completely prepared himself for DWMA, and then collapsed back into his bed to think about yesterday's conversation with Spirit again. He was sure he was going to eventually have to explain the absences to Kid but at this point, the overwhelming feeling of defeat overrode any worry about that. That was tomorrow's Soul's problem. Those tears threatened at the corner of his eyes and with a heaving sigh, he was about to crumble and let them come when he heard the click of the door.

His socked feet added a little slide as he dashed out to the hallway, sending him halfway into the wall. The hallway afforded him a clear shot to the door though, seeing her green eyes wide as she caught his drift across the floor. Maka couldn't help herself, a short-lived smile graced her features as she watched him fumble to keep his balance.

"Maka!" Soul found his balance and continued his rush down the hallway, not waiting for a word from her before throwing his arms around her, squeezing as if he didn't care if she could breathe. That rational part of his brain was telling him this was a ridiculously dangerous greeting, that she probably wasn't even ready to talk to him and he was ruining it all with that intensity, but he couldn't stop himself. Separation could only be soothed by closeness and he made it so there was no space between them, even his wavelengths reaching for hers, finding them achingly locking into place.

After a few minutes, Maka finally murmured, "Soul, could you…?"

"Yeah, sorry." Soul unwrapped his arms but nothing else, forcing her to take a step back, her back pressed against the door. "Maka, I-"

"Wait," Maka cut him off. She put a shaking hand to his chest as if to steady him but it was her who needed the anchor. Not only was the moment terrifying, but taking her father's advice seemed even more worrying. "I'm afraid that you won't be my partner anymore."

Soul waited for an extra breath since Maka rarely stopped at one worry. Not to mention that concern seemed almost ridiculous to him and he had to force himself to slow down, think about his next words carefully. "But you still want to be my meister?"

"Yes." The word came as punctuation to his sentence, not a hint of hesitation.

"Then you're my meister." Soul forced another breath, trying to slow his heart from the thundering speed it was reaching. "But we need to talk about what happened."

Maka swallowed, her free hand coming to her cheek as if she could hide the redness that was starting to blossom there. "I kissed you."

"Did you mean to?" Soul slapped a hand to his face. "No, I mean, Maka, did you want to? Did you… did you like that? I mean… oh, shit." He couldn't look at her, his hand pressed hard to his face while he let the shame wash over him.

"Yes," her voice was quivering.

"Yes?" Soul let a little of his hand slip, enough for his eyes to catch hers. "Like, yes to all of it? Yes, you mean to. Yes, you wanted to. Yes, you liked it."

Maka tried to stop herself but a laugh tumbled out of her mouth, "Yes." As if his face wasn't enough to tell her, his soul sent out those waves of anxiety, worry, but the kind that suddenly started to lap away at her own concern.

His brain was stuck in a loop, that laugh reverberating in his heart. "Yes."

Her fingers clenched at his shirt, that hand pressing into his sternum. "Did you-"

"Yes!" The hand from his face slipped over hers, feeling her fingers tighten again in his shirt.

"You didn't even let me finish," Maka laughed again. "I could have been asking _did you hate it?_"

Soul wanted to complain about her teasing, to shout at her for playing, but instead, he brought her arm back around her, sliding up to the base of her neck and pulling her in, bringing her lips to his. There was no getting away this time but he barely had to try to keep her, finding Maka tilting her head to give him better access, her back no longer on the door as she pressed into him. His lips scarcely left hers, his words drifting across her lips. "No mistakes this time, Maka. What do I say to make sure that keeps happening?"

"Don't say anything."


End file.
